


The Stolen Song

by starlitseas



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Slender Man Mythos
Genre: AU, Detailed AU, Drama, Gen, Horror, M/M, Other, detailed tws in the author's notes of each chapter, jeff is a trans man here fight me, lmao as of 10/16 only two of these characters mentioned in the tags are actually IN the story AAA, trans headcanon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2020-12-17 14:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21056084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlitseas/pseuds/starlitseas
Summary: The end is nigh... Or, at least it's supposed to be.The world-ending serenade of chaos and destruction that was due to be sung was stolen by a defector hoping to keep this whole "being alive" gig up for a little longer— Not only for himself, but for the rest of the world. Meanwhile, a freshly self-orphaned (it's a long story he'd rather not tell) young man just wants nothing more than to run away from everything and start over.Shenanigans ensue.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> { tw: mention of death }
> 
> { prologue's a bit short, but also originally written in February 2018. it's about time i posted it here. }

_Footsteps quickly clicking against marble; unholy screaming from rooms away; the clamor of people and entities alike on an early night; a red, glowing light encased in glass._  
  
It was supposed to end tonight.

Everything was supposed to end tonight.  
  
He couldn’t let that happen. No matter what, he just couldn’t let that happen.  
  
The young man held his breath as he ducked around a corner and hid in the shadows. The voices of his pursuers echoed throughout the halls of the ever-shifting palace, calling his name. Some of the voices were furious and booming, while others sounded panicked and scared.  
  
No matter how desperate their voices got, he knew not to answer. Answering meant turning back, and he definitely couldn’t turn back now. He gripped the straps of his backpack tighter, his mind briefly flashing through if he had everything buttoned and zipped up correctly. He really didn’t want to lose what was inside of it, especially not after the trouble he went through to get his hands on the precious cargo within.  
  
After waiting for his pursuers to leave, he darted out of his hiding spot and down another hazy corridor.  
  
Now he just had to find the way out of this place.  
  
It was easier to leave when he was being sent off to cause chaos and the like, but now that no one wanted him to go, it would be considerably harder to escape. The palace— under the control of the chaos god that was their “boss”— would actively work against his departure. And despite the place being relatively small in reality, the chaos god could make it as much of a looping labyrinth as he wanted it to be.  
  
But, strangely enough, it was right there.  
  
The exit was right _there_, and it was a white light shining at the end of a long hallway. It was a little off to the side.  
  
It was extremely bright as well, to the point where it could be picked up with the young man’s second sight.  
  
He slowed to a stop in front of the entrance, panting. The inside of his mask was humid with sweat by now, but, while he was half tempted to take it off, he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk losing time like that.  
  
He quickly made his way through the entrance, the red glow of the main palace swallowed up by an engulfing darkness behind him.  
  
It was too easy, but he had to take it.  
  
He began walking down the winding hall. While his pace was at a considerable crawl compared to his sprinting, he was no less tense and no less eager to leave than before.  
  
Minutes upon minutes passed.

The light wasn’t getting closer, not one bit.

He had to stay calm when he noticed the trick being played on him. He had, of course, heard of this before, so it was relatively easy to figure out.

It happened to disobedient servants who would die of exhaustion trying to leave. They would keep walking and walking, expecting the exit to come to them out of desperation. The others would then find the bodies of the insubordinate at the entrance. It was terrifying, but the young man knew someone who survived.

That someone was a rather cocky and brash proxy of the boss’ partner: Venom. One night, when attempting to leave to report back to the tall man, Venom found himself trapped in a loop. He walked for at least three hours before getting frustrated and turning back. Much to the proxy’s surprise, however, that the exit suddenly got much closer after turning back around.  
  
Venom lived to tell his tale, and the masked man was lucky for that. It was vital information, that’s for sure.  
  
After being sure that he was in the technical “middle” of the passageway, the masked man began to turn back. All it took was seven steps and a certain stride to accomplish, according to the proxy. Confident that the exit would come to him now, he turned around and began running once more.  
  
The light was right there and so, _so_ close.  
  
He reached out for it.  
  
And he was suddenly in the woods, the cool night air engulfing his nearly overheated form.  
  
He could’ve almost started laughing from relief, but he still had a long way to go before he could finally relax.  
  
He reached around to feel at his backpack.  
  
When he was satisfied that the item he had taken was still tucked away safely inside of the bag, he finally exhaled and placed his hands back at his sides. With that, he slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and took out a compass.  
  
He then set off once more, the pleasant crunch of the fallen autumn leaves beneath his feet being a godsend to his ears.

It was much, _much_ better than his boots clicking against marble, that was for sure.


	2. setback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> { tw: mentions of misgendering, death mention, violence mention }

Jeffery Holtzen had been missing for over a year now.  
  
Extended family members were worried sick looking for him after word of the Holtzens’ tragedy got out. They even had the police on the case of his disappearance on top of the murders of his brother and his parents.  
  
It was irritating, to say the least.  
  
And of course they weren’t using Jeffery’s name. No one was using his name. In fact, to the police and his extended family, Jeffery was just some weird, but ultimately innocent, missing teen_ girl _who probably joined her departed family somewhere else. There were many theories from that gossipy small town about where he could possibly be. They were all interesting, sure, but they were also all _wrong_.  
  
He did like the fact that those three assholes were suspects, though. It was a happy accident that they were about to take the fall for him without him even lifting a finger, but it was honestly their own faults. If they hadn’t attempted to kill him before the tragedy, no one would even be looking at them. If they hadn’t laid a finger on him at the bus stop so long ago when his family first moved there, in fact, none of this would’ve happened.  
  
But what happened ended up happening, and rampant misgendering and victimization aside, maybe it was better this way.  
  
Jeff sighed through his flu mask and rolled up the newspaper he was reading. He then stuck it into his backpack, not even bothering to pay for it when he walked away with it. No one would even notice its disappearance. The store’s manager probably even forgot that these things were even out here, ripe for the picking. They probably even went missing all the time, just like people did.  
  
Jeff took out his cellphone from his pocket.  
  
He didn’t have a proper watch, so he’d been using his cellphone—service turned off, of course—to keep track of time.  
  
Speaking of time, it was almost time for his train ride.  
  
He put his phone back in his pocket, adjusted his flu mask, and then headed off down the sidewalk. He had at least 30 minutes to get to the station, and— luckily for him— it was a short walk. He was actually surprised he was so far out that there was even a train station around, but it was convenient. The ticket took up the rest of his funds, but, despite that, It was worth it just to get closer to leaving the country. Canada sounded nice, he figured, and it had definitely been a hot minute since he had seen snow. It even looked pretty around this time of year from what he’d seen while perusing pictures of the place for a project he had some time ago when he was back in school.  
__  
School.  
  
He didn’t want to think about school right now. There were too many bad memories.  
  
“Your days in high school are supposed to be the best days of your life!”, the adults said.  
  
Yeah, right.  
  
Jeff finally took his eyes off of the ground, relaxing when he saw the entrance to the train station across the way. He was right on time.  
  
Nothing could stop him now.  
  
At least, that’s what he thought as he reached into his other pocket for his train ticket as he crossed the street. He soon blended into the busy crowd, ticket ready to go and his grip on the straps of his backpack tight. The bustle of the train station was almost comforting to him, because it meant that he was finally getting somewhere after having to stick around and save up money for a few months. It was a setback, but it was a necessary one.  
  
It was almost his turn to get his ticket checked at the gates to the platform when he had seen him.  
  
Jeff’s stomach dropped.  
  
The ticket taker was a spitting image of his older brother, right down to his warm brown eyes and his kind smile.

Though he made no sounds resembling words, Jeff's tongue still curled around the beginning "L" of his brother's name and went no farther. He would've been thankful that no one could see his lips curling down with his clenched jaw if he could actively think about that bit. In fact, all Jeff was thinking of right now was how desperately he needed to leave.   
  
He had to get out of here.  
_  
He had to get out of here.  
**  
He had to get out of here.**_  
  
Unbeknownst to Jeff, he was beginning to hyperventilate. He was frozen in place, and had held up the line on accident. He soon caught on to the fact that everyone was staring, their eyes digging into Jeff like sharp claws.  
  
At least, that’s what it felt like.  
  
A bystander eventually placed a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Excuse me,” the bystander said, “but is everything okay?”  
  
The touch immediately threw Jeff over the edge.  
  
He bolted.  
  
He didn’t care where he was running to, he just needed a place that was quiet.  
  
Jeff thanked his lucky stars that the men’s bathroom was not only completely empty, but also relatively clean. Heaving from sheer panic, Jeff ducked into a stall and locked it. He backed up against the wall and sank down, curling inwards with his knees against his chest. He pulled his flu mask down to give himself cooler air to breathe in after every heaving, but restrained near sob.  
  
His mind was racing with thoughts of his dead brother. He’d gone to the funeral in secret, after all, so it was hard not to think of him after seeing a near doppelgänger of him walking around and conducting business at a train station.  
  
It was all just a coincidence, though; just a sick trick that life decided to play on him.  
  
His brother was still dead, and the ticket taker was just some random man. There were plenty of adult men in the world with brown eyes and kind smiles. Well, he hadn’t met any other than Liu, but there had to be at least a few out there that were like him.  
  
Jeff pulled his hood up over his head and buried his head in his hands, running his fingers through his thick, black hair. He was about to close his eyes when the familiar beeping of an alarm startled him out of his prolonged panic attack.  
  
Scrambling to get into his pocket, he quickly pulled out his cellphone.  
  
It was already time for his train to leave.  
  
He definitely couldn’t make it back in time, especially not like this. He slid a finger over the screen to quiet the alarm, then curled back up into himself with a sigh of defeat.  
  
He then began to think about what else he could do. He definitely couldn’t stay here any longer, seeing as how his face was still popping up in the state newspapers and on fliers. The flu masks were a wonderful investment from the start, there was only so much that they could do in the long-run as the scars healed. But before he could think that far ahead, he had to think about what he was going to do _next._ Maybe he could hitch a ride? Jeff shook his head. That was an easy way to get killed around here, according to the rumours he’d picked up on during his stay.  
  
On top of that, there were even rumours of someone breaking into homes and stealing kidneys among other various organs. Sure, some arrests were made in the time Jeff had come here to now, but reporters and gossiping neighbours were more than prone to overexaggeration. He briefly wondered what his old neighbours were saying about him and his family...  
  
Probably nothing nice, but Jeff thought the gossip in general was a riot. But gossip or not, the townsfolk took it pretty seriously. He supposed that he just didn’t ‘get it’ since he wasn’t raised here— There were different types of small towns with different types of gossip. Whereas the residents of Jeff's old hometown seemingly bristled with excitement over salacious love affairs, and the town he lived in after that loved hearing the juicy details of a good smackdown every once in a while, this one bristled with excitement over murder. To each their own, right?  
  
He took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.  
  
His mind went to work with other ways to get away from here.  
  
Going on foot was always an option. It had been how he was traveling for the most part, after all. The next town was just a hop, skip, and a step away. He’d just have to cut through the woods if he wanted to get there quickly. It would take him at least a few days.  
  
Jeff took in another deep breath.  
  
He then decided he had to get out of this bathroom.  
  
It took him a good ten minutes to make sure the coast was clear, but the young man soon left the men’s bathroom and went on his way out of the train station.  
  
It was yet another setback, but only time would tell if it was necessary.


	3. owls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> { tw: animal death, violence }
> 
> [ lmao it's been 8 months since i last did anything with this im so sorry omg ]

It took him a few hours to get away from civilization on foot, but he had made it.

Jeff had successfully slipped away from the town like he hadn’t spent months there mingling and blending in. On top of that, he considered himself lucky that he had at least an hour or two of sunlight to spare before he had to settle down for the night. However, now that he was at the edge of the woods— Its dark and gaping maw was staring him in the face. It looked like it would swallow him up the moment he stepped foot in it, but he wasn’t too scared. The woods were just trees, and the trees were just wood.

Here went nothing, he supposed.

Pulling his hoodie up to keep warm, Jeff made his first steps into the forest.

The expanse of trees actually wasn’t so bad, and it was pretty beautiful in the fading light. The young man had no idea why the townspeople were so scared of this place other than being a superstitious lot. Seeing as how he was so far away from said ‘lot’ now, he pulled his face mask down to take a full breath of the brisk forest air.

The first hour of walking around in the brush was largely uneventful. Sure, Jeff was startled by a large and equally startled owl, but it was kind of cute after the initial shock went away. The young man was quite fond of birds— He enjoyed the weirder ones the best. They were just more fun to learn about when he pulled himself through essays and research for school projects. For example, the slack-jawed stare of a Potoo both unnerved and absolutely_ endeared _ him.

But owls were more accessible here in the states, and Potoos were not. Owls were also much more socially acceptable in terms of recognition. Say the word "Potoo" and people will either snicker or look at you like you have a second head.

Speaking of recognition, Jeff recognized something that he wished he hadn't.

A familiar flash of rusty red breaking up the yellows and fading greens underneath the advancing twilight caught Jeff's attention, and upon further inspection, the rusty hues were recognizable in a way that made his face go numb. 

The blood here had dried into clotted bits, but it was still very fresh.

Every part of his mind was screaming at him to go a different direction or even turn back the way he came, but the tingling sensation between his eyes protested that he needed to see _ more. _ His feet marched on without him. The numbness drifted into his eyes and blocked out the gorgeousness of the trees in favor of the gore on the ground.

Jeff was transfixed on following the growing trail of viscera to its source.

The sun was setting now, but he could still see the growing chunks of red before him vividly. A _ squish _of something underneath Jeff's boot sent a nauseating shiver up his leg, and he blinked himself out of the haze he had gotten himself stuck in.

Just as when he was thinking about how cute owls were, there was a lump of one's remains resting in the leaves. As Jeff scanned over it in growing revulsion, he noticed that its matted feathers looked too clean. Of course, they weren't literally clean, but_ — _

_ They were cut. _

** _They were cut cleanly._ **

Jeff had only been camping a few times in his life, and he wasn’t anything close to Boy Scout material— but even he knew that the gnashing of teeth against flesh was never, _ ever _ this clean.

As he knelt down next to the departed owl, he realized that something was breathing nearby. It was definitely something larger than this owl with its heaviness, but also much more controlled than a mountain lion or…

He couldn't hold back his gasp when he finally noticed.

There was a man in a mask standing not even ten feet away from Jeff.

He was dressed in all black, yes, but the blue shine of his mask gave him away amongst the browns, yellows, and fading greens of nature in twilight.

Jeff jumped back to his feet, stumbling back somewhat.

Where the man was panting, Jeff himself was completely breathless.

Did this mean those rumors were true? What was going to happen to him, then? His knife was in his backpack, and digging through the bag would take too long with the urgency. His heart was in his throat_ — _ Saying anything was hard enough, and trying to summon a scream was harder.

His words came out in an unintentionally hoarse whisper.

_ “...Wwhhat the fu _ _ — _ _ ” _

The masked man was already running into a sprint to tackle Jeff before he could finish his sentence.

He hit the forest floor with a hard _ thud _ that knocked the wind out of him. Jeff swore he saw stars as he choked and coughed on the ground.

He also swore that the masked man was getting something out of the satchel he wore around his waist.

There was no time to find out what. Jeff was pinned down, the masked man's legs on either side of his stained white hoodie. He _ had _ to get out of this mess before his assailant finished digging.

With a determined scream, Jeff closed his eyes and began kicking at whatever he could as hard as he could before he heard a muffled cry from the masked man that doubled him over. Jeff could hear the light clinking of metal as the masked man went down— What was he searching for in there?

Jeff didn't let himself ponder the question any further, moving to push the cringing man off of him fully. With that, he scurried over to his backpack and unbuckled it. Though he planned on chucking the knife after crossing the border, if he had to use it once more, he would.

"Come on, _ come on," _ he hissed underneath his breath, hating himself for not making the weapon easier to grab at.

The knife glinted familiarly in the moonlight, sending a wave of nausea through Jeff’s body, but he couldn’t dwell on the past right now. There were more pressing issues at hand.

He turned back around, knife in hand, as the masked man was getting back up. Jeff couldn’t see his face by any means, but he could tell the man was _ livid. _

The masked man reached into his satchel once more and took out a small blade: A scalpel.

He then began taking steps forward.

“H-hey!”, Jeff yelled, his voice wavering, “You get any closer and I’ll stab you!”

He didn’t want his hands to shake, but they shook almost uncontrollably as he held the knife out defensively. The masked man continued on.

_ “I’m warning you!” _

The warning remained unheeded.

The masked man lunged with the scalpel, too fast for Jeff to do anything but squeeze his eyes shut and brace himself for the worst.

There was a tear of fabric, an impact that pressed against Jeff's stomach, and then a cracking sound.

Jeff had sworn he was stabbed, but he felt no pain. There was no gush of blood, either_ — _ not even a trickle. There was more of a light tingling sensation near his gut, like if his stomach had brushed up against something rushing with static. Confused, he opened his eyes and looked down.

The scalpel was seemingly stuck in his gut, but at the same time… It wasn’t. Jeff’s attacker was trying desperately to get it out, but to no avail.

That was when Jeff realized that the blade had gone through the screen of his cellphone.

His only connection back to his old life was severed. That phone that was nestled so nicely in his hoodie pocket, as silly as it sounded, was his only lifeline to normalcy. It had family pictures, old music he used to share with his brother, and so much more on it. It was a little handheld box of nostalgia.

And now it was gone, all because some masked guy jumped him in the woods.

With angry tears brimming in his eyes, Jeff slammed the handle of the knife against the masked man's head with a roar. After stunning him, he kicked his assailant away. The scalpel was still sticking out from his gut— his pocket— his _ phone. _Though he hated to cast it aside, he knew it was already too late to save the device, and any further fighting with it would become a massive issue later on.

He quickly took off his hoodie, dropping it to the side. Taking advantage of what little time he had while the masked man was recovering, Jeff reached into the pocket of his jeans and produced an elastic hair tie. If it was a fight this man wanted, it was a fight he was going to get.

“You know, I was just going to run away,” Jeff scowled with determination as he tied his hair back. “My day’s been terrible enough already, you know? I used up the last of my money on a train ticket I ended up screwing away, I’ve been walking in these woods nonstop for _ hours, _ and now some random, slasher-ass _ creep _ breaks my phone— my last shred of remaining normalcy on top of perhaps even my last chance at some _ income _...”

The masked man righted himself back on his feet again. He stared at Jeff pointedly as the young man pulled his hair into a low half bun. Jeff dried his eyes on the cuff of his sleeve, glaring at his opponent.

He then readied himself as best he could in his inexperience, finishing up, “I don’t want to kill you, but I just can’t let you get away with that without at least a little bit of payback.”

The masked man let out an indignant huff, much to Jeff’s surprise.

_ “Fine.” _

Jeff paused for a moment, “...Huh?”

Everything was less scary if you could create a dialogue with it. Even the worst scenarios could soften if you imagined the ‘what if’s of what would come after. That was just as much of a fact as the fact that people could be reasoned with. Any person could be talked down from their ledge, and even if it was just one word that broke that “dangerous beyond words” image of the masked man before him— Jeff found that he was a little less scared. He was still angry, but he was a little less frightened of the situation he had inadvertently stumbled into than he had been before.

Unfortunately, that also meant he had let his guard down. Letting his guard down had also meant that he had left himself open for a well-placed tackle.

The masked man seemed to be more in control of himself this time around as he drove his body into Jeff’s center, causing him to yelp and drop his knife. The two men tumbled to the ground, kicking and scratching at each other as they fought for a proper pin over the other. Jeff opened his mouth again, but the masked man held his palm against his teeth. He tried to bite down, but _ God, dirty leather tasted so gross _—

Jeff continued to thrash against the masked man, jolting his body against the man’s own in an attempt to get him off. He couldn’t quite kick upwards, seeing as the other man had learnt from Jeff’s last escape from underneath him. The two were practically chest to chest now, and Jeff was pinned on either side of his arms and torso with the masked man’s elbows. Every further attempt to throw his attacker off was met with hard pressure. He could hear the exertion in the masked man’s panting. It was dampened against the hard plastic, and Jeff hated the sound. That forest air Jeff was enjoying earlier was now drying his mouth out around the makeshift gag that was the masked man’s gloved hand.

Somehow, the two seemed to settle into this position. It wasn’t a stalemate, seeing as the masked man had the upper hand, but yet… It entirely was. Their gazes were locked, like predator and prey. Though Jeff couldn’t parse a pair of eyes behind the mask in the darkness around them, the two both had the same thought on their mind.

_ Who was going to make the first move? _

Jeff’s jaw ached, and he was drooling. He broke the silence first as he let out a frustrated groan as he tried opening his mouth wider, to no avail. His teeth remained pressed against leather.

“This is _ some _ payback,” the masked man said, further breaking the silence.

Jeff’s eyes narrowed in seething anger in reply.

“With those scars… I thought you’d have more experience fighting. Turns out, all you're really good at is talk.”

_ This guy sure was a cheeky bastard, wasn’t he? _Jeff tried turning his head, but he was forced to stay still— Forced to keep looking into the deep blue of the other man’s mask.

“You don’t even look like you know how to hold a knife regardless,” the masked man continued. The more he talked, in Jeff’s opinion, the younger he sounded, “A kitchen knife? _ Really? _ It’s not even a proper meat knife. You think you can kill someone with that?”

_ “Aih _ — _ Oahnd _—” Jeff tried to retort angrily from behind the palm pressed into his mouth.

“You can’t even do meal prep with that. You use that knife to cut steak dinner at your gran’s house. You poke at cold peas and carrots with that knife while you sit through another long-winded conversation your parents are having about politics. That's not a weapon.”

That was weirdly specific. But there was something about the man’s rambling that seemed to make something click in Jeff’s mind.

_ 'Gran’…? _

A flicker of realization lit his eyes up. He knew this voice.

There was only one person in his whole life who had ever used that term unironically and frequently, at that. It was a boy who Jeff had known for years_ , _ years before Jeff started his transition in high school, even. He remembered the two of them being practically inseparable. Be it school trips, games, prospective first dates _ — _ Where one went, the other followed. That is, until they couldn’t follow each other anymore. Jeff had to leave him behind when his family had moved to that godforsaken _ town _that he was now trying to get as humanly far away from as possible.

...But. No.

_ It couldn’t be. _

That was the absolute last thing he needed on top of everything else today.

Eager to disprove his gut instinct, Jeff put all of his energy into rolling himself into one last thrash. He managed to get one of his arms free. He had to be quick about this. The first place his hand went was up to the man’s mask, his fingers gripping around the hard plastic rim. He took a sharp breath through his nose and counted. _ One, two— _

On _three,_ Jeff quickly tore off the mask and threw it aside.

The unmasked man let go of Jeff’s mouth with a startled sound. Jeff took in a long gasp through his mouth and used this diversion to push the man pinning him down off of him. After scrambling backwards a foot or so, he wiped his lips off onto his dirty sleeve and looked at the face of his attacker.

Under the light of the moon, Jeff stared over at the shocked face of his childhood friend with wide eyes. His heart skipped a beat. The words he wanted to say didn’t come as easily as they did before. When he could speak, his voice came out in a shocked gasp.

_ “... _ ** _Cecil?_ ** _ ” _


End file.
